


The Light of the Crystal

by Corehealer



Series: Burden and Belonging: Sarah's Shadow - Emet-Selch/WoL Ship Shadowbringers and Ongoing FFXIV Fanfiction [8]
Category: Ascian - Fandom, Final Fantasy XIV, Shadowbringers - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Hope, Hurt/Comfort, Hydaelyn - Freeform, Love, Memory Loss, Memory Magic, Other, Reconciliation, Reminiscing, Soul Bond, Tempering (Final Fantasy XIV), The Convocation of Fourteen (Final Fantasy XIV), Zodiark - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27143320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corehealer/pseuds/Corehealer
Summary: A three part piece in my series, grappling with a few subjects/emotions but, principally, my developing opinion of Hydaelyn at the present moment within the current story context, both in the game canon and in my own developing headcanon. Work is now complete, but I am probably going to revise it a bit before I call it finished.Sarah is lost in thought on a chilly Ishgardian evening, reflecting on recent events and, more specifically, her developing thoughts on Hydaelyn and the seeming reality of her own tempering in service to the Mother Crystal. Emet-Selch appears beside her to offer consolation, but in their conversation the both of them end up reliving some painful memories of her last moments, and the circumstances of the Unsundered's survival through the Sundering.Their conversation turns later to other matters, such as his thoughts on the dragons and Midgardsormr, who comes to speak with them about the past they both have shown him through her experiences on the First. Finally, Y'shtola returns with some friends, and a surprise for them both.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Series: Burden and Belonging: Sarah's Shadow - Emet-Selch/WoL Ship Shadowbringers and Ongoing FFXIV Fanfiction [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913674
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	1. Bitter Spirits

**_From sparkling mote shall thy Light swell, to glorious Sun, and all the world shall bask in its warmth._ **

**_Go forth, my child, and be as a beacon of hope for Eorzea and the lands beyond, through all the days of thy life._ **

**_… Blessings and joy be upon thee…_ **

_And thus did dawn break on a realm reborn._

_But where there is light, there is always shadow._

_Why me? Why now?_

***

What was the reason? For all of this?

All the crystals, taken in excess of what others had received?

Her interest in her... Had She Known? Had She seen, long before I had, who I was?

A long sigh. She sat alone on a bench in the Pillars amidst the Last Vigil, listening to the city's populace slowly filter into their homes and warm places, taking in the cold air even as she exhaled to a puff of steam exiting her mouth and nose. She didn't mind the temperature; if anything it was conducive to her thinking in this moment.

Evening slowly turning into night, after a long day spent in Y’shtola’s company, wandering about Ishgard taking meals together, planning their next move. The two of them had had some lighthearted moments during the day, mostly involving plotting pranks to pull anew on the Angel. Other moments they had spent attending to the growing rumour mill of the city, still blossoming with hearsay as to the events of her address to the House of Lords and Commons the day prior.

Everyone had a new perspective to share on her words and experiences, from the Fortemps and Edmont himself who had reacted largely as Aymeric had to the prior day’s revelations, to Hilda down in the Brume who was surprisingly jovial at the thought of the nobility so tied in knots at her choice of lover. Everyone had thoughts to share, but nothing so close to what Sarah herself had intended to impart. It would seem her desire to try and explain, to share the truth, had fallen flat, sounding more akin to a fairy tale but with the blunt, standout reality of a Garlean emperor inserted in for good measure, something that made others latch onto that fact more than any other. Most of the nobility for their part seemed to avoid her this day, and she had little desire to interact with them in turn at this moment in any case.

Hilda had spared little thought to Emet himself or his past, seemingly gladder at her happiness at having found him, and having him to, in her words, ‘ruffle some feathers’ where there still was need to keep the pressure on. Sarah thought she had perhaps been misinformed as to her intention, given that Hilda had not been present in the Vault, but she would not argue with anyone willing to give her the benefit of the doubt at this point, regardless of the reason. Hilda’s reaction was common among the poor and working classes of the city, who otherwise had less time to spare for thought of such revelations as she imparted, still concerned with their next meal or the future in general. Garleans and Ascians might as well not exist, by comparison.

Perhaps the nobles could benefit, she thought, from his presence in time. To be forced to do better by their people, at the very least, as he was being forced to do in his new life. But only after they’d all had a chance to cool off. For the time being, she had done all she could to try and explain where she was coming from. If she had to come back again and individually speak with every single one of them, she would. But not now. Not while tensions remained high.

Y’shtola had departed from her some minutes earlier, to seek out the other Scions that had accompanied her and check up on them. Tomorrow, they would leave the city together and proceed towards Gridania next. She hoped her chances of finding a warmer reception would be better there.

Emet-Selch himself had been silent for the better part of the day. She could tell he persisted as ever within her Azem stone, his soul’s warmth a telltale sign, but his consciousness was largely dormant. He spoke no words and had not made himself known since their pleasant discussion that morning with Y’shtola, following her own revelations at the Knight. And the mention of the dream. Of Elidibus. Of Zodiark. Perhaps he was busy thinking about what this information represented.

In this moment, however, her mind was more turned towards the other eldest of primals. The one she had met in person many times, first as a giant blue crystal, then in the form of Her Oracle. Minfilia. The one she had known here in Eorzea, and then, more recently, her reincarnation as the First’s Minfilias and the latest of their kind, Ryne.

Hydaelyn, the one who had come to her in her earliest memories, long ago. Who had been at her side for her whole life as Sarah. Who had been very present throughout her earliest journeys in Eorzea, and had been the catalyst for her success against the Ultima Weapon. The shield of Light brought to bear against Zodiark’s hammer. The reason for her first major victory, over Gaius and Lahabrea.

Two men she now looked at very differently, from that point to now, but for very different reasons. And, in the latter case, with deep regret still tinging her soul.

“Gods, Gaius… what will he think of this.”

Gaius had known Solus for most of Gaius’ life. Had been among his most successful commanders. ‘The one to succeed where Nael had failed’, he had pledged to Solus not long before Emet allowed that life to end, and Gaius in turn was humbled, and left a broken man.

He hunted Ascians now. His was certainly to be a very… difficult reunion. “That can wait for when we arrive in Ala Mhigo.”

Hydaelyn had come to her many times throughout her life, at first as a whisper on the wind, passing through the leaves of her forest homeland, far away. To comfort her when she saw her twin sister pass away, in her youth. To console her, when she stormed away in argument from her family, her mother most especially. Anger at their disregard for what she wanted with her life. She was among those intended to be passed around for the benefit of the tribes, and to one day lead her own. Produce children and guide the next generations. Circumstances she had ever resented, and eventually rebelled against.

Her earliest years had been a blur of disappointment with few good moments, often spent alone, looking up at clear night skies akin to what she now looked upon from the Pillars. The stars had ever brought her a pure sense of peace, untainted by anything else or anyone else. Endless lights dancing before her, but often replaced in her mind with one in particular. The soft blue radiance of the Crystal Mother.

Chimes and ringing tones. Always the same whispered words.

_Hear. Feel. Think._

Hydaelyn had been a comfort, the only consistent good in her life for the longest time, though in those years she had never thought to question Her presence, Her words, why She had spoken to her specifically. These questions only briefly came to her after the success of Operation Archon, when Hydaelyn had been spent and retreated from Her Warrior, silent, her lack of outreach an abiding absence in Sarah’s soul. Sarah had seldom heard from Her since, save for the moment she had been brought before Her in the Antitower, and afterwards, brought Ardbert and his friends to that fateful meeting with Her Oracle. There had been nothing in the few years since that separated then from now. Of their last meeting, she recalled feeling surprised at how seemingly disconnected, even callous, the Mother had been towards Ardbert and Her other Warriors, Her children who had faithfully watched over the First despite everything. Who had done everything asked of them.

Just as she had.

And so she now sat, embracing the cold, lost in thought. Lost in memory. Trying to understand why, how, she had come from so distant an age to this point, a seemingly tempered Warrior of Light, bathed in the all encompassing light of Hydaelyn. From Emet and her understanding of the Venat recordings in Anamnesis, she had learned that she forged her own path in the time of Amaurot, when the Final Days approached. No Hydaelyn, no Zodiark. It had availed her little, as Elidibus had so eloquently put it in her dream. She had failed to prevent everything that came after, and then had seemingly been absent from the world for millennia. If she had lived any other lives, been anything or anyone else, she could not remember it. So what had been the use? What had she been thinking?

These thoughts still swam around in her head as they had since the Ravel, when Emet had explained Her nature to her and the Scions. That She was a primal. The most powerful, in fact, given Zodiark’s broken nature, and in spite of her own periodic exertions in response to Rejoinings. It made her sick to think of that comforting blue light, and what it had probably represented. What it had done to her soul. The slow process of Her claiming the one who had denied Her, just as Zodiark seemed eager to do now in turn.

Dueling deities, one holding fast through slipping fingers onto the Warrior of Light, claimed in her youth in vulnerability and ignorance, the other seeking to reclaim the last of the Convocation as a Warrior of Darkness. As an Ascian. Or, so it seemed now, as she reflected on the last few days.

“ _Apologies, for my long absence hero_.”

She had become accustomed to his sudden appearances from the stone, and so did not react when he appeared next to her on the bench, Garlean attire matte black against the darkness of the coming night. He looked up at the sky.

“ _Another beautiful night with you_.”

She continued to look at the sky, lost in thought, silent.

“ _I sense you have a great deal on your mind of late. Anything I can help with_?”

“Sadly, I doubt it. You’ve done all you can and more, and I could not ask for more, nor do I think you could offer it.”

“ _I could certainly try, all the same. In truth, I am just glad to have another moment to ourselves after these many days in the company of your friends_.”

Her eyes softened, lids dipping slightly as she smiled at him. He never failed to be there for her, even after everything she’d put him through.

She thought a moment and then knew what to ask.

“Why didn’t I stay with you, when the end was in sight?”

“ _I believe we went over that, my dear. You chose your role and your convictions. You desired a better way, no matter what it took. You were gone, and then, all of this.._.”

“I still feel like… thinking on it… I don’t know. I don’t know what could possibly motivate me to abandon you. To leave you all alone for all this time. Even with the primals and everything else.”

She buried her face in her hands, sighing.

“I can’t even imagine what manner of ‘conviction’ I could have to think I knew better then the Convocation or anyone else how best to avert an apocalypse such as we faced. All I did was doom you and the other Unsundered to a terrible fate.”

The significance of this last sentence was lost on her, but was not on her companion, even as she mustered a question that quickly followed it. Why had she not thought to ask about this before?

"How did you three even survive, anyway?"

He paused, his face contorting briefly in a painful memory. He shook his head.

“ _Remembered that too, did we? I was wondering when that might come about_.”

She looked at him in confusion.

“Remember what, exactly?”

He hesitated, and then looked over to her, a bit of sadness in his eyes again. That memory.

“ _You ask after convictions; I have a theory as to their nature to offer but… I had hoped you would not… that you would never think to ask why it was that we three were left Unsundered when all else was lost."_

A hand in hers, gripped tightly for a moment.

 _"_ _I_ _t was because of you_.”

She froze, eyes locked on his, completely unable to speak. He shook his head again.

“ _A day I will never forget, despite my desire to do so many times when it returned to me, a deep and abiding memory filled with pain unlike any other. Are you sure you wish to hear of this?”_

She hesitated, then nodded, still unable to speak. He looked down at the ground, at the tiled walkway of the Vigil, studying the lines of stonework.

 _“We had only a few months, following the Final Days and Zodiark’s summoning, where Amaurot and the world were a blasted husk but yet whole. Many had perished, and you seemingly among them. I lamented this, but in that time was still heartened by the thought of bringing you back. Via the sacrifices, as Hythlodaeus explained to you. To sacrifice the new life that had been purchased with the loss of so many of our kind in order to bring back those lost. Venat and those others who dissented disagreed vehemently with this, calling it foolish, selfish, wishful thinking_.”

His eyes continued to follow the trailing lines of stone, before coming to rest at her boots.

“ _At the time, we had little inkling of their intentions. It was only when Hydaelyn was bearing down on our heads and shattering Zodiark that we realized too late the degree to which our people had already been sundered_.”

Eyes tracing up towards her face, over her black and flowing robes. Returning to her gaze.

“ _A sight as awful as any the Sound had conjured forth… Those lives that yet persisted dividing before our very eyes as the ground split asunder in a cascading wave of Light, blinding and white in all directions, the deafening cries of our gods in our ears_.”

He placed his hands in hers, savouring her warmth to steady himself in this difficult memory as he continued, his aether seeming to shake ever so slightly but not from the chill air. His eyes welled the slightest hint of tears that almost seemed to freeze on his cheeks.

“ _Lahabrea and I were together in that moment, attempting to plan out how we would rebuild the city grander than before, with a new temple dedicated to Zodiark in gratitude for His actions on our behalf. Already tempered, we were in that time less ourselves and more enacting His newborn will, seemingly ignorant to the changes He had wrought in us. We had paid little heed to those who yet voiced opposition to our majority’s course. And then they forced us to hear_.”

“ _She arose on the horizon, and there did battle beyond the bounds of the city with Him, who rose to meet this challenge even without the presence of His heart. Elidibus had come forth from Him to quell the raging hearts of the people who dissented, but had failed to be heeded by those in Anamnesis despite his best efforts at reconciliation. As he returned to our side as they fought above us, he and I realized he had received their truest answer to his entreaties_.”

His eyes flashed, not unlike how the Azem stone did when he came forth from within it, bright yellow instead of orange. Piercing into her soul.

“ _We fled towards the Capitol, there to find some semblance of safety and wait for that titanic clash of powers to end, shrinking as we did in terror at the terrible cacophony above us. But already the fabric of the Star began to fray anew, already still so weakened from the Final Days. As that ending came, so too did you. In that place where last I had sensed your aether. A flash of your soul, placing a shield above us… A bubble to hold back the Sundering…_ ”

He placed his head down into her lap, softly weeping.

“ _You faded… as soon as the worst of it was over, and we were left in an open field, alone. Deafening silence, disoriented, bodies and possessions reduced to aether…_ ”

“You… you had said you’d not seen me again since I had left the city, prior to-”

“ _A lie… of omission. I… this is perhaps the most painful memory I possess, hero... I had not wanted to burden you so with this, not then… Not after we had already argued, and in reunion._ ”

She began to cry too, the both of them a pitiful sight had there been any there to see it.

“I… how did I? How did I do this?? Why?!?”

“ _I do not know, truly... I only know that, in that briefest of moments, I felt your soul envelop me, envelop us… as you had my aether so many times before. A pure love untouched by any god, seeking only to save me and our friends_.”

A moment of silence. He seemed to squeeze her hands, and then finally rose his head again to meet her gaze with tearstained aether.

“ _That was your conviction, hero, such as I’ve come to understand it since, though in truth I seldom had the courage to recall that moment… When it had ended and the world was divided into its fourteen shards, I simply collapsed and wept for I know not how long… Overwhelmed by that seeming loss of you after you had given what remained of your soul to save us. Or had seemed to_.”

“ _Your conviction, to save us, no matter the cost to yourself. Even if it cost you the last of your strength, even if it was just us and could not be any others… Your hope that we would find a way, where you alone had failed_.”

More weeping, their arms around one another. She buried her face in the fur lining of his leather coat, practically subsumed in his aether caressing her face as she let tears beyond counting fall to the ground and freeze into ice.

She still couldn’t understand it now. No memory came to indicate how or why this had occurred. She simply had his word and his emotions, now seeping into her soul again, to go on. They all seemed real enough.

“ _That was the biggest reason, I had lost hope. I had been so certain that you had died, first in the Final Days and then with that final act of sacrifice. A sacrifice in some ways more profound then any other, even with all our people had already given. All that I and the rest of the Convocation had given. The others felt the same. When we came to inhabit the Thirteenth after its disastrous realignment into the Void, we resolved to place there a seat in your memory. We believed that in the Rejoinings, we were enacting Zodiark’s will but also your own. To bring you back along with all the rest as payment for our lives and the hope we carried_.”

This thought stung, given how she felt about the countless souls that had suffered the Ardor. Once again, he already knew what she was thinking.

“ _I knew you would feel thus, and had not wanted to bring it up. But… it was inevitable, I suppose_.”

“How is it then… that I stand here now, at your side, seemingly hale… even as a sundered being?”

“ _I cannot say… Perhaps you spent the ages drifting the currents of the Underworld, requiring these many ages to reform and find a means of returning, though without conscious will to see it through. Or perhaps Hydaelyn had a hand in it. I can only guess…_ ”

Hydaelyn. The one from whom she had been forced into such a situation in the first place. Same as Zodiark. Their conflict costing so many so much, her most of all. Even now, in reunion with her soul’s mate.

They sat there a while longer, tears ceasing and giving way simply to a long, desperate embrace. Two old souls, very different in appearance from when they had first embraced on a bench not unlike this one, in that other time. They sought now only consolation. To know that they would be together now, come what may.

“ _I will never be parted from you again, hero_.”

“Nor I, Angel.”

A hand on her cheek. A long kiss, lips warmer even then a fireplace. She almost forgot she was in the midst of a wintery environment.

Silent for a long time, they looked up to the stars again, huddled together for warmth. After a long time, he spoke again.

“ _There… was one other thing. Something a bit… more pleasant, to remember of that moment_.”

She gazed up into his eyes.

“ _A long time ago, as you’ll recall, you saved an island full of people and their grape harvest, ostensibly only for the grapes and the chance to demonstrate the usefulness of Lahabrea’s creations in enacting your role. The Convocation were in fits at first, nearly ready to censure you… until they had a chance to taste the fruits themselves of your labour, quite literally, and then, later, sampling a most interesting idea that had come from you_.”

He produced a bottle of wine, unlike any she had ever seen before, from beneath his jacket’s hemmed folds. He held it up to her, glass reflecting the light of the stars.

“ _The real bottle yet rests in a secret place, in Garlemald, untouched since last I laid hands upon it following the Seventh Umbral Calamity. This is but a memory, but serves enough to visualize the thing_.”

She placed her hands on it. It was cold, worn glass with faded letters proclaiming it a product of the Words of Halmarut, from a winery adjacent to his section of the Anyder. Where grapes had been grown, seeded from that island. Allowed to ferment and mix with other ingredients.

“ _This was the first vintage, of that collaboration you had with the Arbiter. He had sampled the grapes and remarked as to their delightful texture. It set your mind to wondering how to improve upon these gifts of nature, as much to cool the lingering tempers of the Convocation as to produce something new and novel, as you often desired to do. And, with a little incentive… to provide you and I with something new to share_.”

“Wines existed prior to this, as I recall…”

“ _They did. But this was a special kind of wine, new to the city, and crafted by the hands of our finest artisans in the Words. A product of a Convocation member. Stamped with your name. Azem’s Spirit. Something intended for travelers on long journeys_.”

She could barely make out the name, written in those strange, ancient letters upon its surface. She ran her fingers over it.

“ _I had been upset with you when you first gallivanted off into the midst of that eruption with unsanctioned concepts to aid you, but when you returned, when you created this with them, when you offered me this very first bottle… I could not help but soften my heart once again. I kept it with me ever since, saving it for a special moment_.”

He handed it to her. It was empty, being only a memory, but smelled faintly of… lavender.

“ _After the Sundering, I found I still possessed that first bottle, retaining within my aether even with my body gone. I had forgotten it in everything that came after, with no special moments having come forth within which to share it with you. In the ages after, I resolved to ‘toast’ each Calamity and Rejoining in your name… believing fervently I was approaching the day when, at duty’s end, we would share the last of it together in reunion. I took it with me everywhere, hidden, with not a soul other than I to see it. Each time it was as bitter as it was sweet to drink, its lingering flavours and scents reminding me of you, and the taste of your aether on my lips_.”

She ran her fingers along its curves, and up atop the bottle’s cork, already loose, to uncork it. More lavender and other, more bitter smells.

“ _I left it in Garlemald because… when last I sampled it following this most recent Rejoining, I could taste… so much felt different. I found no joy in it any longer, no fond reminiscence or belief in the rightness of my course. I left it somewhere I could return to it, but no longer sought to carry it_.”

He shook his head.

“ _Something else for us to find, when we go there_.”

She handed it back to him, and with a snap of his fingers it was gone, disintegrating into blue particles, drifting slowly into the sky and then into nothing.

A few more tears arose in both of them.

“Hades…”

“ _So much of my life, even spent in the memories, and the absences… so much of it belonged inexorably to you. My traveler. Even in endless despair, hope never truly left me, thanks to you_.”

He placed his forehead to hers, gazing at her intently.

“ _Whatever I’ve failed to do, or failed to understand… pales in comparison to what you mean to me, and all that I wish to do for you. To make up to you. To thank you for. For your happiness. Now and forever. I owe you everything; for keeping me alive, both then and now_.”

Before she could speak, his lips were once again pressed to hers, a new wave of desperation and longing building in their chests. A fear of separation’s return after so long, though no threat seemed to foretell such a thing repeating.

“I wish I had never left you that day…”

She wept a few more moments, even as they kissed. He wrapped her close in his clothes, his arms, his aether, to shield her from the cold. A hand through her hair. The other in her own.

“ _Come now… dry your eyes. I know that not all memories are happy ones, but even so, I think we both only have so many tears we can shed_!” They laughed weakly at this for a moment, kissing again briefly before returning to some measure of composure.

“There was a man in this city, the one I mentioned in the Pendants, who came up in the Vault yesterday. A man who sacrificed himself for me, not unlike it seems I did for you. I think about him every day, and have visited his grave just outside the city often…”

She gazed up behind them to the high spires of the Vault, where she had bid that man farewell.

“He told me… a smile better suits a hero…”

“ _He would be correct, hero. Your smile always lights my heart_.”

“As does yours. So smile, hero.”

He stared at her a moment, disbelieving her words.

“ _I am nothing like you, in that respect… I’ve only ever cost lives, done terrible things, for a half forgotten world. Your deeds live in the here and now_.”

“Even so… sometimes keeping hope alive is all that is needed to find the way back home. To find yourself again, and what matters most to you. And I think that’s plenty heroic, especially after all this time.”

At this, his energy spent, he collapsed into her, holding her tightly. Exhausted of tears, he simply smiled and sighed happily.

He had come home, after a fashion.

***

They spent a while there in silence, holding each other close, looking up at the stars as the night crested fully in the sky. A full moon. No souls yet walked in their midst to disturb them, but they did not seem to notice.

At last, she had another, hopefully less painful question to ask.

“So, what’s your thoughts on dragons?”


	2. A Flight of Fancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing up a Midgardsormr dialogue. They won't happen often, but I think he's gonna pop back up from time to time.
> 
> And yes, Sarah does fancy the odd dragon. Ysayle rubbed off on her quite a bit, during their adventures together. Emet will be trying to imagine how that all worked out for quite some time, given the shifting physiology of dragonkind.

Emet turned to answer her question, his mind finally returning to some sense of normality, but was interrupted by a sudden flash of light between them. As seemed often to be the case with her questions now, a summons was given, and received.

**“Thy Mother guides thee unwittingly unto strange shores, child of man.”**

The tiny visage of Midgardsormr, in his guise as dragonet, newly reborn. The form he had first taken after she had bested his spirit, on the _Agrius_ ’ broken hull in Lake Silvertear. Ever an enigma, and often at rest given his age.

Sarah hadn’t had an opportunity to speak with the sire of the First Brood for a long while. Not since her trials with Omega, quite some time ago now. A surreal experience in its own right, rivalled only by the revelations of the First for sheer scale. To discover the interdimensional nature of these creatures and the strange machine hunting them? Had it been written into a book, Sharlayan scholars would surely have dismissed it as the rankest fantasy. Yet it had been ever so real. She hoped Alpha and Omega were getting along well, wherever they were out in the world.

She had mentioned her relationship, such as it was, with the Dragon King to Emet previously in passing, during their long conversations in the Pendants prior to returning to the Source. But all the words in the world were as air next to the reality of this ancient being, now greeting another.

**“A shadow attends thee. A most curious one at that. One you know?”**

“Yes, old friend. Another, very old companion of mine, one that could perhaps boast to be as ancient as you!”

Emet sat silent for a moment, regarding the tiny form of the dragon as it came to rest on Sarah’s shoulder, placed between them. A very different form, from the one he had regarded a long time ago in the presence of his Unsundered brothers. His normal tone and wit, whether by the emotionally charged circumstances of their earlier conversation or the gravity of the entity now before them, had given way now to a more serious speech. Sarah could sense a previous association, even before they spoke.

“ _We’ve met before, you and I_.”

**“Indeed. I have not forgotten thee, Paragon.”**

“ _Bound by covenant to the usurper, as I recall, as condition for Her allowing your kind to live in this mishappen world She cherishes so_.”

**“A deal struck in no small amount of desperation, given the circumstances. I hath not wavered in this charge, even for all the ages that have passed since then. Time hath proven the wisdom of my course, though not ever the wisdom of Hers. My kind persists and abideth in all corners of thy Star, even if not always at peace.”**

“ _She has a habit of taking advantage of desperate souls, in my experience_.”

**“Not unlike thyself. I hath not forgotten the works of your kind, for whom the blood of my children hath flowed in abundance, in ages near and far. Tiamat still sits in bondage, testament to that.”**

Emet resumed his silence, simply studying the dragon intently. Sarah shifted slightly uncomfortably; just what she needed. Yet another person who’d have problems with her choice of partner. And a dragon lord, of all things. As if to allay that thought, however, Midgardsormr turned to her.

**“I am heartened by thy choices, child. Many of thy kin, in service to thy mistress, hath burned bright before being brought low, time and again. Never knowing why. I had assumed such a fate awaited thee. But it would seem you are more then you appear, even to my tired eyes.”**

He leapt off her shoulder, swiftly shifting from dragonet to the larger form she had used as a mount on occasion. The form he had taken in address to Ishgard, at the conclusion of the Dragonsong War. He stood before them on the tiled walkway, stars at his back.

**“Thy heart bespeaks a fear, that I should judge thee for thy choice of mate, as I judged thee by thy service to the Mother. For his acts, it would be my right to rise in anger, were that my way. It is not. I have witnessed the folly of my child, slain by thy hand, and thy striving towards a mending between man and dragon. And I have remembered the nature of this Star, and the memory of its past, before our time. I have listened and seen and learned these things from thee. In this, it is I who should proffer you apology. For offering up the means by which disparate peoples might rise in animosity, with dragonkind as mere pawns, same as all the rest.”**

He shook his head, bridle at his back shaking and shifting ever so slightly.

**“Grievance passes from age to age, cherished by few, an acid for the heart. Deeds done in ignorance, over and over. His kind and yours, and all the rest, consumed to feed the needs of misbegotten gods. Thy radiance a reflection of Her will, binding thee still. And Her eternal opponent, stirring within thy heart, His heart at your back. You have wounded both, though thy awareness of the act is dim. A challenge unlike any other do you present to them.”**

A turn towards the heavens above, long neck craned to reflect their light in deep, glassy eyes.

**“You are but a weapon to wield, or to end before it should be drawn against them.”**

“ _Ever the pragmatist, dragon. Admirable_.”

**“Would it not have been so in your day, Paragon?”**

“ _The Convocation would have delighted in your kind, and with fairer terms by far from Her demand. Of that I am certain. We were no strangers to refugees in our day, even before the Sound_.”

**“Even with the doom following in my wake, I find it hard to believe; your kind coveted much, even in balance. Our salvation a condition of your ‘Convocation’ as surely as Her own agreement, however fair.”**

“ _Learned all that from memory alone, did we_?”

**“Learned from the continence of thy mate, Paragon, and by her many deeds.”**

They both turned to her. She had always been hungry for knowledge, power, mostly in service to others. To ensure their safety and to lift them up. But she would be lying if she said it had not also been in part for herself. To serve her whims, her ego, and her desires. From what she had yet gleaned of her past, the same had been true of her even as she sat in the Library, consuming books and concepts day after day. Pushing and striving after new frontiers as Azem. Eyes ever on a horizon line.

**“She is as she was in ancient days, to mine eyes. Even if the soul be dimmed, it still burneth bright. A beacon for the hopes of many, including you, Paragon.”**

Emet rose an eyebrow at this comment, even as he came to rest his head upon his right arm.

“ _You wouldn’t have been eavesdropping on our heart to heart of a moment ago, would you dragon? That would be terribly rude of you if true_.”

**“I hath only ever watched and listened, as I promised to your mate upon the consignment of my covenant with Her, and with Her Warrior. That I should know the hearts of man, old and new, be but a trifle. Ephemeral to me.”**

Emet sighed, and turned to Sarah.

“ _You really aught to keep a closer watch upon the company you keep, hero. I’m all for eavesdropping but only when it is I who is doing the dropping in_.”

“He hasn’t spoken with me in such a long time I’d forgotten he was even still with me, honestly. Even so, I doubt it’ll be a big deal. He’s always been a friend to me, even long before I realized it. Him and his people both.”

**“She speaketh true, and far more then she realizes. And I think she may yet be surprised to see that truth in the flesh, in but a moment.”**

She paused, and then looked confusedly at Midgardsormr, who simply continued to stand before them, stoic and silent, waiting for something.

“ _Any idea what he means with that, my dear_?”

“Not a one… unless…”

And, once more, a query answered with a seeming summons. Flapping wings from over the edge of the Pillars railings before them, behind the Dragon King. And then two familiar alabaster visages, bristling with scales and sinew. Vidofnir and Vedrfolnir, of Hraesvelgr’s storied brood. Each came to rest beside their distant grandsire, Vedrfolnir to his left, Vidofnir to his right. Vedrfolnir approached Sarah with a swift motion, affectionately rubbing her gaunt face into Sarah’s waiting hands.

“Mortal, it has been too long since our time together in the Mists. I have missed thee.”

“The feeling is mutual, Vedy. How have you been keeping?”

“Very well, in truth. Thy works among the moogles and the children of man amidst the Mists hath borne much fruit, even in thy long absence. And now I hear much talk of Ehll Tou’s assistant in learning man’s many arts. Truly thy kindness is boundless as the night sky. But that is not a surprise to mine experience.”

“Would that all of my kind could be as they are, and as we were.”

“Perhaps the seeds thy kindness plants will be the root for such things.” She nuzzled Sarah once more before returning to her grandsire’s side.

“It is good to see you again, in any case. And in the company of our Lord. A wonderful meeting.”

Emet was a bit puzzled by this sudden exchange of intimacy, and turned to Sarah quizzically. She simply smirked.

“What, did you assume all my past relationships were just with the races who dwell in cities or possess the conventional parts? And here I was thinking you knew how to live a little.”

She really was every bit the woman he had loved, with every passing day. That he did love. And apparently had always been so, even as a sundered soul. He smirked in turn.

“ _I had not assumed a thing my dear, but dragons? Even I find that hard to believe. Isn’t that illegal here_?”

“I suppose it was. Not so much anymore, last I checked. Perks of bringing people together, and ending needless deaths.”

He smiled.

“ _Well, far be it for me to tell the storied hero how to warm her bed. Just so long as she’ll continue to indulge me_.”

“Ever and always, Hades.”

Emet turned back to the dragons, nodding at Vedrfolnir.

“ _An honour to meet yet another of my dearest’s good friends_.”

“And who might this be, Sarah?”

“A very old and dear friend of mine. Emet-Selch. Someone ancient, and of your father’s acquaintance. And my first love.”

She nodded in turn, eyes sizing Emet up.

“Truly this is an auspicious reunion for all. I am glad to see she keeps such good company! I implore thee please, come to the Mists sometime, and visit. I should like to know you better as well.”

“ _By all means, when we have some free time after this tour round the realm she’s dragging me on, what’s one more little detour hmm_?”

They all chuckled, smiling a moment before Midgardsormr resumed his lengthsome tone.

**“That thy mate knows many in such a way is known to me in turn, and not without cause, given the dire nature of her suffering and struggles. But even I was surprised by her interest in one of mine own kind, and their brief struggle with Darkscale and briefer courtship, a passion of a moment. In this she resembles the Lady Shiva, both the old and the more recent. My mind is drawn to the many ties that bound man and dragon in days of old, and may yet bloom again.”**

Vidofnir chimed in at this comment. “Not only in the Mists but also even among the Forelands do our kind find anew the kindling resumption of old kinships with man, most recently those of Tailfeather. The hunters offer tribute and trade in exchange for aid in their hunts, though some few have also found a surprising companionship and friendship betwixt the two, despite all barriers. Is this not alike to how thy own ancient people did live, Paragon?”

“ _Perhaps… not quite the same, given the limits of their nature, and to some degree even your own. But colour me impressed, all the same_.”

“Surprises of a myriad of kinds await thee then, I suspect. In this, I too am grateful for your arrival at her side. She has done well by my kind and myself, even in difficult moments. She will not lead thee astray.”

“ _For all her faults, and all the ways she tests my patience, she never has. I know_.” He smiled at her again.

**“I thank you both for your timely arrival. You may depart now; I must rest anon, and return to the Warrior’s side. We will speak again soon in better times, my children.”**

“As it should be. Honour to you, grandsire.”

“Honour to you, my Lord.”

Vidofnir departed with a swift backblast of wind, kicking up snowflakes and cold air, ruffling both their clothes. She was gone in an instant, soon followed hesitantly by Vedrfolnir, who offered a final parting nuzzle to Sarah before kicking up in turn and flying back below the railing, and off towards the distance.

**“I would exchange a few more words with the Paragon, err I depart.”**

“ _I’m all ears, dragon_.”

**“I have a word of warning for thee, out of a desire to see this hope not go to waste. Though she alone has achieved much, she has never achieved much alone. All the efforts of thy kind and ours have been driven to desired ends, though they may seem to be of free wills stirred to action. She has thus far offered little challenge to their designs, even as their seeming pawn, but by thy hand has she been awakened to her truer nature. In this hath I found hope in turn, for a future wherein a brighter path may follow in thy shared wake, from beneath their conflict’s eternal shadow.”**

The dragon approached Emet, crinkled noses barely an ilm from one another, gazes intent.

**“Your past haunts thee still, and you wear it like a shroud. Though thee did speakest of desperation and committence, of mending thy failed lines of fate, thy life within thy mate’s anchored heritage is precarious, and you are yet ill suited to carry out thy remit. To see this hope to its conclusion, thou must be willing to face thy past in full, even if thyself is separated from her. Your companions on the long road may be gone, but are not forgotten. Your former lord stirs, and shadows grow in abundance from places yet hidden to thee. Each will come to test thee in turn, to see the worth of your ‘freedom’. Do not waver from thy new course, as thee didst not waver in thy prior one, knowing full the truth of thy lover’s conviction. And thy light might yet shine again for all to see.”**

“ _Well, that was plenty cryptic. But I shall take the words to heart, nevertheless. Aught else to impart_?”

**“Only this.”**

From within the dragon’s eyes and aether, a bright white orb of light emerged before them, planting itself within Emet’s form. He stumbled back in shock a bit in his seat upon the bench.

“ _No… how did… you couldn’t possibly have fo-_ ”

**“As I said; my kind abideth ever over all corners of the Star, even in the midst of your Garlemald with its huddled walls and airships. Thy kind often fails to see the most mundane sights in searching after more apparent anxieties. In the places between sight, some among my kind flutter and fly, carried on swift winds. They went at my bidding to procure for thee and thy mate a gift of thanks. For thy many revelations to her, and to me in turn.”**

“ _And with manners like that you really think we wouldn’t have found swift, common cause in Amaurot_?”

**“Perhaps, but that era is long gone. We canst but make the most with what fates we are given. And I would make the most of thee and thy witticisms, Paragon. Such as they are.”**

He reached into his jacket’s inner folds again, and produced the same bottle from before. Azem’s Spirit. This time, however, it sloshed around, as if containing liquid. Wine. And a stronger tinge of lavender reaching Sarah’s nose.

“Wait, is that… really? Where did you hide it, exactly?”

“ _Behind a glamour, in the cloning facility’s storage area, among the materials used to maintain them and the machines that brought them forth. None but I knew the means to dispel it and reveal the crate this bottle was housed in, or so I had assumed_.”

**“Thy arcane works are but an irritation for my kind. A puzzle, but not without apparent solutions where one is accustomed to unconventional thought. A trait our kind shared with those of our parent star long gone, and its peoples, but also with your own kind it would seem.”**

“ _Truly, I regret then all the more our past interactions_.”

**“See they do not happen again then. My affection for the Warrior and desires for the future are all that keeps thee from a painful fate. Do not forget it.”**

With another flash of light, Midgardsormr resumed a brief moment as his dragonet form, hovering before Sarah now.

**“Keep close watch over him; he is yet tainted by the Dark, as you are by the Light. But hold fast to one another, and thy seeds of hope in turn, and you will find the way home. And as ever, I will be watching, and at thy call.”**

She could almost sense the old beast smiling at her.

**“Just snap thy fingers, hero…”**

Another flash of light and he was gone, leaving them both to cradle the bottle between them gingerly. They sat in a stunned silence for a moment longer.

“ _Well, Sarah, I must say. The company you keep is as diverse as the many objects you once shoved into your mouth_.”

“Wait, what?”

“ _Hm? Oh nothing_.”

“You follow up all that with a comment like this? Really?”

“ _Only for lack of a real response. It is hard even for one such as me to truly have an answer to all of that. But I suppose in that exchange you got a better inkling of my ‘thoughts on dragons’, developing as they are now_.”

He turned over to her, their hands sharing the bottle between them.

“ _I have to admit as well; I wish I had been there for even half of what you’ve seen and experienced up to this point. Even for all the time I’ve lived, I’ve not quite ‘lived’ quite so much in a very long time indeed_.”

“Honestly? The feeling is mutual. And who wouldn’t want to live forever in such fine company?”

They laughed at this, smiling and then kissing once more, bodies wrapped around the bottle which they soon came to regard in turn.

“So, about that toast…”

“ _I see no reason to wait any longer then we already have_.” A snap of their fingers in tandem produced two wine glasses, empty and in their hands.

“I am glad he was able to get this for us.”

“ _As am I. After our earlier conversation and then all of this a drink is welcome indeed_.”

He poured the last of the contents of the bottle into each glass, filling them half full.

“ _There wasn’t much left; I anticipated that it might not survive all the ages, even with my sparing indulgence of it. I am glad that this much remains_.”

They clinked the glasses.

“ _To the oldest fools in the world, and their dragon friends_.”

“I’ll drink to that!”

A quick swig, and bracing faces as the ages old, fermented beverage passed their lips. She wretched ever so slightly.

“By the gods… blaugh! That… that has a kick to it like a chocobo in heat!”

“ _In our time, wines were very spiced and laden with complex flavour palettes. Sundered as you are, I suspect it would be quite a bit more overwhelming then it would have been when you were yet whole_.”

Even as he spoke, she seemed to find the strength and attendance of her taste buds to swallow the rest of the dark purple drink in one go, sucking it down with a slurp.

“Ahhhh…. That was quite the taste. Like a flower field with teeth.”

“ _Halmarut had one of those too, actually. Carnivorous plants. But that is a tale for another time_.”

He finished his glass.

“ _It tastes again as it once did. Bitter, but still with some measure of sweetness and nostalgia_.”

He held the bottle to the sky, regarding with some fondness how the starlight above danced within its glassy interior.

“ _I shall give this bottle in turn to you. As another small memento. Something you once held in your hands, in that time long ago. Now returned to you as surely as all the rest will, with hope, and with time_.”

She held it close, reading once again the words on its faded exterior. They seemed very so slightly clearer to her.

“Pashtarot’s handiwork, the calligraphy. I’d know it anywhere.” Her awareness of the past, while ever more present with each passing day, still elicited some small measure of joy in him. She barely seemed to notice, but it was not lost on him.

“ _He was well pleased when you joined us from the Library. He admired your written works, and almost fell over when first you entered the meeting hall in the Capitol, carrying a copy of your book on the history of that storied institution, signed and presented to him as a gift at Lahabrea’s suggestion. He still chided you plenty when you did something foolish, which was often in your role, but even so, I never saw him without it after that. He enjoyed working with you, as they all did_.”

A brief silence, as they both thought back on that, and the many happy days they had spent together with their brothers and sisters in the order.

“I miss them too. Every day now, as you surely must have.”

“ _Indeed. Would that they were all here with us, and with a dozen more of these bottles. It would have been akin to an end of year potluck, or our occasional late meetings which ended in shared dinners. We were all workaholics, in our own ways, and even you were not so often absent as to be away from such gatherings for long, ever with a story of your journeys to share with us over meals. With me at your side to offer commentary_.”

“And what a snide commentary it was, when we told Elidibus, all starry eyed, about the volcano, or my time in that jungle hacking and slashing through overgrown vines to reach that river and correct its aetheric balance!”

It was as if she’d never left, in moments like these. As if they were now picking up where they’d left off, thousands of years ago. The prior pain itself a memory, though never far, but thankfully absent amidst warmed bodies and warmer thoughts of home.

“I wish we could bring them all back. I hope, somehow, we still can someday.”

“ _Some few might yet be saved, among our Sundered and Ascended brethren. But even so, it will not be easy to find them or convince them. I know the reality of their current fates all too well. And they are all in His thrall, as surely as I was. It will take more then wine to win them over, hero_.”

“Well, then a good thing indeed that their Traveler returns to shepherd them again, and be reminded in turn of their roles and friendships.”

They both smiled at one another.

“ _Just so long as She doesn’t go ruining all this for us again, hmm_?”

“On that, we’ll just have to see. I’m sure She’ll try, and He will too. Maybe they already are trying. But I won’t be parted from you again.”

She held him again close, having placed the bottle away in her pack a moment ago.

“Whatever She’s done for me, or done to me, it doesn’t matter. I want answers. I will try to speak with Her and learn more of Her intents. One way or the other. And if we must fight Her, then so be it. And the same goes for Zodiark.”

“ _We are committed then, in this. I had not thought I would see the day_.”

“Well, thank yourself for that then. T’was as Midgardsormr said; you made this possible by believing in me, even if only begrudgingly at first. And by your actions. I won’t let you down, and you in turn won’t let me down. I trust you.”

“ _We’ll just have to see. I’ve let you down plenty, and certainly, one could be said to feel a bit bitter still after so long left alone. But I forgive you, hero_.”

A kiss on her forehead.

“ _We’re both broken, in our own ways. But at least now we can be broken together_.”

Her eyes softened again, cheeks still blush from the wine, but also from his abiding warmth.

“So it goes, Ascian. Let us be broken together then.”

A moment of silence, listening to the cold wind blow, and the largely silent city settling around them, the odd wooden creak or tapping sign from the Crozier in the distance as it waved in the wind.

“I love you, Hades.”

“ _I love you too, Sarah_.”

She rested her head on his shoulders and closed her eyes, intending to simply sit there in that moment and hope it never ended. He did much the same, resting a hand on her head, gently caressing her hair and ears.

“ _You know, I must admit as well. Your ears may be different now, but it is almost an improvement. And the tail_.”

“Its just unfair you don’t possess the same for me to tease!”

“ _Oh hero, that would be much too easy. But perhaps if you behave next time we have a chance to play, I’ll grant this wish_.”

She grinned from ear to ear. “Deal, but you’ll have to work for it.”

Another moment passed in sweet silence, and then came at last a sign of life. The telltale footfalls of their old new friend, soft leather boots and swaying hips brushing against the cold winds. Coming from the distance, from the direction of the Athenaeum Astrologicum.

She called out up to them both.

“Ah, I see you chose to sit out here where I left you in the freezing cold for bells just to get a moment of quiet with him. Commendable!”

“ _And a good evening to you, Hythlodaeus. Here to spoil the mood with some new scheme of yours_?”

“Perhaps, but I suspect even you will find this surprise to your liking, esteemed Emet-Selch!”

His eyes perked up a bit at this, as she approached to a few ilms from them both on their bench.

“In the Athenaeum, some friends of ours have gathered Sarah. They have something they want to share with you both, if you’ll come with me.”

“ _Seems our friends have need of us, my dear. Shall we_?”

“Let’s.” She lifted herself from his arms and lifted him up in turn before placing a hand in his hands, and the other in Y’shtola’s.

“So, any hints as to what this surprise is Shtola?”

“Oh not a one, I think it needs to be seen to be believed. Right this way!” She smiled at them both, with a hint of mischievousness behind her intonation. Because of course there was.

Whatever lay in store for them now, surely it could not hope to top a date with dragons.


	3. The Star's Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one took a bit longer to write, between real life and just involving a lot of characters to consider dialogue for. It is also as much a comfort work as it is a continuation of this piece's whole dialogue on Hydaelyn, given what I ended up writing.
> 
> Emet-Selch is a comfort for me in hard times, as he is for many. Hence, all of this.

The heavy set wooden doors of the Athenaeum opened and closed with a soft thud. The three of them relented their handholding as Emet and Sarah took in with some surprise the sheer volume of people there to greet them.

The Fortemps, from earlier that day, had made the short journey from their manor. Count Edmont, Artoirel and Emmanellain, with Honoroit in tow. Aymeric and Lucia, themselves fairly close in proximity, smiling at their approach. Krile and Urianger seated at the nearby table, rising to greet them. Practically the whole of the Astrologian Guild was in attendance, many familiar and unfamiliar faces seated at the same table or amidst the bookcases and astrolabes. Jannequinard and Lady Leveva, the heads of the Guild, were behind the front desk, looking over a spread out deck of arcana, musing over some calculation or another but lifting their eyes now to Sarah’s first question.

“Lady Leveva! I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?”

“Freshly returned from a trip to Kugane to meet with Kyokuho and the Hingan geomancers. They’ve been taking to Sharlayan astromancy quite well, before you ask, and pairing both their old and newfound skills in tutoring a new generation of geomancers in Doma.” She smiled, walking over from around the desk to Sarah and hugging her briefly in greeting before returning back to rest at the front of the desk.

Another old friend of hers from her longtime practice of astromancy; Sarah had rushed the Athenaeum her first day in the See in eagerness to learn of this storied Sharlayan art, and had that same day saved Leveva’s life and that of her grandsire. The arts they both taught her had become her favoured method of preparing for long journeys with divinations, to see what the future held, and to bind the wounds of her allies and friends.

“I had been wondering about the reading I did on the airship home, of a curious set of purple stars… they brought to my mind the Spire, with its emphasis on dramatic change and transcendence, but I found it paired with the Sun, with Azeyma. Something I had never seen before, or could recall ever being recorded before as an outcome. I had thought my drawing incorrect, but it repeated itself several times…” She frowned a moment, lost in thought.

“I could not make heads or tails of it until I spoke with Jannequinard upon my return… he spoke of having borne witness to your words in the Vault.” She turned to him, as he held the two cards in question, the Spire and the Sun in its form as Balance, up to the lantern light.

“I had attended the joint session of the houses, the other day, and had struggled to make sense of the things you spoke of and how I could have missed such shocking turns of fate! It was only when I spoke with Leveva that I once again found myself finding the truth, both in her words and in the stars above.”

He handed her the cards, which she in turn handed to Sarah and Emet; her the Sun, and him the Spire. In this gesture she relayed awareness of what the reading had meant.

“So this is your Garlean emperor? An Ascian? A god?” She looked him up and down with hands to her hips. She was well aware of Garlemald, the Ascians and the Twelve, having learned of each over these many years, from watching her countrymen and women among the Scions and the Baldesions, and from her long Sharlayan education. A few hushed whispers could be heard among the assembled crowd of astrologian onlookers.

“He’s mildly underwhelming, if I’m being honest. I expected him to be taller.”

“ _I get that reaction a lot, of late. I’ve been many things in my long life, and not all of them of my own choosing. Whichever god you people believe me to be, it was not by choice or by my own machinations I can assure you_.” He sighed, looking down at the card, running a solitary gloved finger over it.

“ _Underwhelming is a new, and perhaps more interesting epithet then I am used to, I must admit_.”

“Well, I for one can certainly ascribe only one epithet to you, sir.” Edmont approached Emet with cane in hand.

“ _And what might that be_?”

“A source of endless questions. An enigma. I might think you Thaliak, for that reason alone, and for your association with Azeyma, given her more… obvious presence. Gods, that will not get any easier to think about, even with time. To think I hosted a goddess in my own home for those many months…” He turned with a smile to Sarah.

“Sarah my dear friend… I must apologize a final time for all that has happened these last few days and for my initial reticence to… comprehend and understand all of this. For my silence at the Vault. You know the why of it.”

She placed a hand in his, a comforting gesture of reassurance.

“It is quite alright Count Edmont; I hadn’t expected any of what occurred, but it isn’t wholly unsurprising. I can only ask for people to try and understand, and naught more. I know full well how difficult it is to understand and accept, where all of this is concerned. To forgive and forget. Just like with the war and the dragons and the past.”

“Be that as it may, I would still seek to try and assist you with this endeavour however I am able. It is the least I can do, after everything you’ve done for me and my family.” He shifted his eyes between her and Emet, once again studying the man beside her in his Garlean attire, gilded gold, red and ivory.

“My countrymen are stubborn fools at the best of times, even with the war over and change come to Ishgard. If they must be made to accept more, especially where it concerns them little directly as in this case, I see no reason not to offer my words and hand in helping them to see things as you have come to see them. I will continue to speak with them in your absence.”

He clasped her on the shoulder briefly before placing his cane back down on the ground.

“We owe you so much. This feels to me a small gesture.”

He turned to Emet.

“And certainly, for everything he’s apparently given to you and done for you, and the knowledge he brings to us, I should think we’d be more appropriate in welcoming him with a feast then with traded barbs. To give him a better impression of us then all of this fearmongering.”

Emet scoffed; the idea of Ishgard being warm to anyone, himself especially, was quite a bit more then he was willing to accept.

“ _I find that very hard to believe. I was the big scary Garlean emperor in very near living memory after all. That’s often all you people see me to be_.”

“Perceptions can be deceiving. We once saw our archbishop and his knights in a specific manner. One of righteous cause and unimpeachable character. We were proven sorely incorrect. The reverse might yet prove to be true for you, given this past world you speak of.”

He placed his hand on Emet’s epauletted shoulder, making certain to be careful with his indistinct aether. Emet was a bit taken aback with how willing Edmont was to reach out with this gesture.

“I’ve lived long enough and seen enough these many years to know that, sooner or later, the past becomes as much a chain around one’s neck as a guide to finding the future. A lesson my brothers and sisters here in the See could do to be reminded of, however often is necessary. I may lack for your own long experience, but I feel I’ve seen enough to relate on that point, as I’m sure you can.”

He sighed, and returned his hand to side.

“We must needs find a better balance then before in our dealings with the past; it is my hope, having given it some thought of late, that your words regarding the true past of this Star could serve to help illuminate for us here in Ishgard a new way forward. And with that in mind, a feast would be an ideal way to offer a more jovial atmosphere in which to overcome cold and hardened hearts. And provide you a means to make your own case yourself, I should think.”

“ _Is this an actual invitation or a flight of fancy_?”

“It can be either. I leave that up to you and Sarah.”

“Maybe… once all of our wandering around Eorzea is done, and we won’t surprise anyone around here at least with his presence… we can invite the whole realm over for a party?”

Everyone in the room looked at Sarah, a bit dumbstruck. In typical fashion, her mind had extended far beyond Ishgard to include practically all of Hydaelyn in her estimation. She shrugged.

“I mean… I don’t know. I feel as though we all have a lot to celebrate. We’re alive, we’re free, we have almost everyone in the Alliance together, for the first time. Garlemald’s on the back foot. Primal summoning is at an all-time low. We have a long way to go still but… I think everyone would benefit from a reminder that we’re all in this together, you know?”

She gestured her arms animatedly about the room, becoming more enamoured of the idea the more she thought on it. Emet was already thinking back on Azem making similar propositions to the Convocation, to invite those from other cities to Amaurot for a giant party. Just for the sake of it. To bring her journeys home with her.

“And we can bring Doma, Hingashi, Thavnair, Dalmasca, Bozja and all the others who would come. Whoever can spare the time, and all their dignitaries and diplomats. And the tribes, the kobolds and sahagin and ixali and amal’jaa, everyone! The whole realm.”

“Now that might take quite a bit longer to prepare and plan for, and provide invitation and travel for…” Edmont thought on the matter a moment with a gloved hand to his chin.

“But the thought of a renewed Ishgard hosting so many diverse people under its roof would, I suspect, go a long way towards exposing the nobles and the commoners alike to new ways of thinking and living.”

He smiled.

“And at the very least it would open up new trade opportunities. New military and architectural research possibilities. New avenues for cooperation and cultural exchange on the individual level. I dare to say I like this plan.”

He turned to his sons.

“I trust you’ll both be capable of tabling this motion within the House of Lords on the morrow?”

Artoirel dutifully nodded.

“Shouldn’t be any trouble father, though I suspect it will meet a great deal of initial resistance. Especially with the nobles still up in arms about her guest.” A foregone conclusion.

Emmanellain looked about nervously for a moment before resting his eyes on Sarah’s reassuring visage.

“I can’t say I’d be in any h-hurry to impose upon them… and the city at large… so grand an expense, given the continuing Restoration… but you know me! I won’t say no to good food, good drink and good company! Just think of all the fair maidens that would be in attendance!” He mimicked Haurchefant’s familiar exuberant hand gestures, regaining his composure.

Honoroit leapt up and down behind him, full of excitement.

“I for one think it’s a great idea! I’ve never been far from the city before and would love to meet people from all over the world. New friends, and all the adventurers that would show up with tales to share!”

Jannequinard nodded in agreement.

“I think the stars will align with enough time and effort to make this a reality my friends. I will be happy to assist Artoirel and Emmanellain in the House of Lords with this, and make my own house aware of it. I expect the main point of contention, aside from my stubborn father, will be on the matter of the bill…”

Sarah interjected.

“I’ll take care of it. I sell a lot of shiny weapons to my fellow adventurers. I have gil to spare.”

Another round of glances from those assembled, this time with wider eyes. She couldn’t possibly be thinking to take on the whole financial burden herself? Aymeric approached at this point to stand beside Edmont before her, Lucia just behind him.

“You are far too generous for your own good my friend! Such ready willingness to part with wealth and possessions is admirable, but I will not see you fall into poverty on our accord, no matter what the value of the event in question is. I will be sure to give this motion a fair hearing in the House, and that should it pass, see to it that a fair sum of Ishgard’s coffers is devoted to it.” He smiled at her.

“I imagine all manner of organizations and individuals could be called upon to assist as well, not least of which being the grand companies and city states here in Eorzea. Given the nature of this proposition, I suspect they will be fairly clamoring over one another to assist and be recognized for making it a reality, ere long.”

Lucia chimed in.

“I suspect you could even get that theater troupe out in Kugane to come to Eorzea, maybe bring the party to the whole realm via their airship for those unable to attend? I can think of someone here especially who might enjoy that.” She threw a knowing glance at Emet.

“ _Seeing Jenomis and his people again would be a very pleasant experience, certainly. They were always a bright spot in my former life. I suspect the shock alone of my new existence would be enough to kick that man into a whole new flurry of ideas for new plays.._.” His smile finally found him again, thinking back on the _Prima Vista_ drifting into the clouds as it left Garlemald in his memory for the final time.

As the talk drifted into the how’s and what’s and where’s of this idea, the party plan began to take on a life of its own, each assembled person beginning to speak with those around them about how to make it happen, make it memorable. Her infectious enthusiasm was already taking hold again, it would seem.

As the talking in the background continued, Krile and Urianger approached Edmont, handing him a small package wrapped in brown cloth and tied delicately with simple rope.

“Afore it is forgotten in this newfound levity; the labour of these past few days hath been concluded, Master Edmont. To Lucia’s specifications, and by the surpassing skills of thine own house’s goldsmiths.”

“I think it looks every bit as lovely as hers, myself. But for lack of that ‘personal’ touch reflecting the other’s special nature, I brought it to Y’shtola.” Krile looked over to her as she approached from beside Emet and Sarah.

Edmont looked over to Y’shtola. “Mistress Rhul, were you able to make aught of Lucia’s recollections and the recreation of the magic involved?” Sarah began to listen inquisitively to this, Emet by this point being focused on conversation with Lucia and others about Jenomis and the _Prima Vista_.

“I don’t doubt that my insights of late, and my prior knowledge of such things illuminated further as they were with Krile’s assistance, provided a meaningful outcome for this gift. But even so, I would like to see its effect with my own eyes before I can call it a success.”

The four of them turned to Sarah, and Edmont handed her the package.

“The surprise, I believe Mistress Rhul already made you aware of, and the true purpose for this gathering.” He motioned for all assembled to quiet down and return their attention forward.

Emet approached and assisted her for a moment with unwrapping the gift. They both gasped.

A silver broach, exactly alike to the ones he had been handing out of late, most specifically alike to Lucia’s. But this one was in some ways more embellished, and featured a mix of black, gold and silver inlays. An assortment of gemstones around the rim and inlaid into the artistic image on its face, a mix of sunstones, amethysts, heliodors, spinels and lapis lazuli. A cresting sunburst halo around two sets of figures. Above, as a background, two ancients in red masks in simple relief, embracing and facing one another. Below, as a foreground, two figures, a blue miqo’te and a garlean, rendered to clearly represent Sarah and Emet, repeating this motion of embrace and attention.

It fairly gleamed. Reflecting diverse colours and lights as it sat in their cupped hands illuminated by the Athenaeum’s lamps. A work of art.

As Sarah touched it’s surface with her clawed gloves, she found a memory rise unbidden from within the jewelry, rather than her subconsciousness. A memory of Y’shtola’s, of Hythlodaeus, that she had implanted in the stones that bedecked the broach. Of him, Persephone and Hades, as he led them down an aisle together in a marriage ceremony convened by the Convocation in ancient days.

Despite initial shock, she shouldn’t have been surprised by this notion, that they had eventually been married, in the fashion that such a thing existed within Amaurot where one’s soul bond meant more then any formal acknowledgement in law and society where others were concerned. But even so, her friends had insisted they should, given the obvious nature of their bond to all with the Sight, and he had been willing to make it official. An excuse for a party, not unlike the ones she had been clamoring for, after all.

It had been a beautiful day. The rains had ceased. The city was shining in a way she’d never recalled seeing before, buildings still glistening with water and dampness. The fresh air. The birds singing in the park trees, dropping their blossoms to the ground. The wind in her hair with her hood down and mask to one side as she kissed him to wild applause. Half the city must have been there to see a pair of Convocation members bound in love.

A bouquet of lavender flowers and her roses…

He had placed an earring on her, of his own creation, as a symbol of their bond. She had done the same with him. The same one that had been on his ears the entire time she had seen him in this present age. Her creation.

This last detail, previously unmentioned and unremembered, caused her to fall into his arms. He realized what she had seen, a memory much more readily familiar to him, and held her close smiling as she let forth the second long stream of tears to come from her this evening. He was aided in this by Y’shtola in turn, then Krile, then Urianger, Edmont, Aymeric and Lucia. A group hug among group hugs, offering her comfort. And comfort for him, in turn, as his own eyes welled up.

Two ancient souls held up by the weight of their friends, old and new.

The room was full of smiles at this, and a few cheers and nodded heads. The memory within the broach had radiated outward and found her memory, and that of Emet and Hythlodaeus, implanted into their minds eyes. Their souls. The wind and warmth and shining skies of that moment, long, long ago.

Leveva clapped. Amaurot was quite a beautiful past, she mused to herself. She would have liked to have seen it. She probably had, as she regarded the waves of hooded and masked individuals clapping in this memory, under the shadows of passing clouds and vast skyscrapers. Her mind’s eye looked over to the soul of Emet-Selch as it had been, Hades, presently kissing Persephone.

“I guess that is your Garlean emperor, then. Not so underwhelming after all.”

Jannequinard had to lean himself against the front desk, his eyes wandering about for something to focus on as he regarded these images of Amaurot in his head, stirring some deeper longing in his chest. He was not alone in that sentiment for long, as others found themselves thinking back and remembering. Nothing so clear as to offer clues as to their own past lives, but a hint that they, too, had all been present at that wedding in ancient days. As if fate had drawn those souls it could from then to now.

Edmont, curiously, found his perspective had shifted to that of a Amaurotine who had been near the front of the group assembled in applause, close to the Convocation who had been overseeing the event and providing, via Lahabrea, the commencement and vows. He couldn’t place who or what he was seeing through, but for that brief glimpse, he found himself leaning into his cane a bit more then usual, with his sons rushing through their own recollections to catch him and hold him aloft.

After a while, the memory faded, but not without a final parting gesture to sear it into their minds.

A voice. That of Elidibus, of all people, as he had been in ancient days. The speech of the ancients immediately familiar to all present, despite most of them never having heard it before.

**“May their light ever shine forth in all corners of the Star, forevermore.”**

After some minutes of tears, cheers, clapping, catching of breath and regaining of composure among all assembled, Edmont found he was the first to speak.

“It would appear this idea was well founded indeed, perhaps more then I could have hoped! My thanks for this strange gift of revelation, Mistress Rhul.”

“You can thank these two specifically; I only had this memory return to me this morning, after they helped me find my own past. That of having been their old friend. I found it vivid enough to impart, with a little help from Krile and Lucia, being able to examine his own handiwork.”

Emet was speechless for a moment. They had accomplished this on their own just by looking at his own work?

“ _Perhaps there truly is hope for all of you yet_.” He was truly beginning to grasp just how much these sundered souls could offer him in surprises, not unlike his dear Azem before them.

Sarah still wept, unable to think, just filled with the overwhelming warmth and happiness of that moment. It lingered longest in her, and the words of Elidibus as well, contrasting oddly as they did with the memory she had most recently had of him still stirring in her soul. It even now briefly flared forth; a biting cold in her breast contrasting with the warmth of those embracing her. She shook, but was held up still by their hands. Their aether almost pooling about her, his most especially.

Her life had been led seemingly blindly to this point. She had lived for so long in ignorance of these important parts of her past, and her soul. But still, fate had yet provided her a means to reach this point and remember, and she had taken that chance the day she returned to his recreation of their city and roused him from her stone. Her choice to bring him back, enabled as much by his own actions and hopes and efforts as by her own.

And now here she was remembering something so dear to her, surrounded by loved ones but also strangers, people she barely knew. And yet, they too felt familiar. All people had come into familiarity with her, no matter their distance and significance to her life. Her easily formed connections. Her willingness to learn. To help. To listen, think, feel…

Where had Her blessing ended and her own empathic nature, her role as Azem and all the rest, begun? Where did her soul’s own desire to be bound among all others in reflection begin and end relative to the repetition of Hydaelyn’s own nature, governed ever and always by a need for salvation and control?

Had she not also attempted to provide these things in turn? Countless times she had sought to provide others with the means to fight cruel fate and find salvation. To find control in their lives and peace even amidst the direst of circumstances. No chaos was too much for her to charge blindly towards it, so long as it gave others what she felt they deserved. A means to live.

Had she imposed that on them? Had she imposed this memory on them? Should they remember their past? Or should it too be forgotten like so much else?

The energy of that past moment, and the man next to her, gave her the answer she was seeking. That it shouldn’t be forgotten. She had seen the result of wars waged in ignorance. Time after time. Amaurot and her people were just as much worth fighting for as those who represented the pieces of their souls.

But… a hesitation.

She choked a bit on her tears and breath suddenly, collapsing a bit further forward, still held up but now with a bit more alarm from her friends and lover as they were roused from their mutual speaking to one another to regard her situation.

**Hear.**

**Feel.**

**Think.**

She was finally speaking to her? Now of all times? And in that voice…

She gripped at her chest. A tightness, like a cloying hand from nowhere grabbing at her and crushing her heart. Her head.

In Emet’s haste to catch her, the Spire card Leveva had handed to him fell to the floor, upside down. Sarah stared down at it as her tears, shifting rapidly from joy to distress, hit the card and the floor.

**Matoya.**

**Come.**

“Minfilia?!?” She cried out, briefly seeing the Scion’s former leader flash before her eyes as she had been as the Oracle.

Y’shtola was confused by this. They all knew Minfilia was…

It dawned on her.

“Has… has Hydaelyn spoken with you? What did she say?”

A deep exhale. The moment passed, and Sarah fell to the floor, panting, surrounded now by many more of those present, Leveva included who presently drew her star globe to offer succor. Sarah rose a hand to console worry, and for her to stop.

“I’m… I’m alright… I just… I just need a moment to catch… my breath…”

A moment passed, more hushed murmuring and glances. Emet leaned down to help her up, as he and Y’shtola rapidly regarded each inch of her soul’s aether for any sign of Mother’s passing presence.

“I… the Antitower. We… we have to go to the Antitower.”

Answers. She needed them again. Hydaelyn was calling out once more. She can’t have been ignorant of what had come and gone. What Her Warrior now knew. What she now was.

She was reaching Her hand out.

“She’s calling you back, to speak, isn’t She?” Y’shtola gave a worried frown, her arm around Sarah’s back and shoulders.

“I… I don’t know what She wants… She seemed… distant still somehow. Distorted? Spoke in Minfilia’s voice but… that… that can’t be right. And…” She panted and wheezed a bit, coughing for air. The wind had been kicked out of her from the inside out.

“I take it She didn’t like your gift, then?” Edmont attempted a weak smile, clearly worried as all others in the room now were at her sudden shift in demeanor.

“I don’t know… I need to know. I need to see.”

“ _Then we will go and see. Together_.” Emet placed his hand on her shoulder, eyes to her level. He knew this had been a command. It was something he was not without experience of, even having spent much of his time in Zodiark’s own service willingly following His will.

She could only do what she had been told, now. Gridania would have to wait for afterwards, assuming all went well.

***

A bell passed. After some time spent collecting themselves, her especially, those gathered gradually filtered out into the cold, to their homes, ignoring the late hour while speaking with more spirit as to all they had witnessed and felt in this moment. Of the visions, and the memories. Something that would only serve to confuse the rumour mill further come the morning.

Edmont and those closest to her were the last to leave, with Jannequinard and Leveva offering her use of their personal spaces in the Guild for the evening to rest, given her immediate weakness after that sudden ordeal. She found herself resting on a bed in one such room, all lights out. Azem stone to her chest once more, with Emet still awake, consoling her from within its depths.

She had taken several glasses of water and several moments of meditation to recompose herself from that sudden, all encompassing grip. Hydaelyn had never interacted with her in so forceful a way before, but in this moment, Sarah could tell that she had struck a chord with the Mother where it concerned her increasing independence and use of Her blessing to her own ends.

She was certain she would need to try and clarify the distinction between gifts and nature when they met soon. Midgardsormr had always regarded the blessing of Light as a crutch. Perhaps now, the crutch had finally outlived its usefulness, but She still sought to hold onto Her most valuable pawn all the same. Or perhaps, there was urgency and more in this matter then Sarah could yet say.

Either way, she felt the impulse all the same. She would have to go to the Hinterlands, beseech Matoya to permit her to use the tower’s sight to contact Hydaelyn. And see what She wanted. To see if there was any value in this situation between them, and if she would be faced with not one, but now two immensely powerful primals as her enemies. One of whom held her still within a vice.

“ _Try to rest now, my dear. We’ll figure out what we need to do tomorrow before we depart. And we’ll certainly not be alone_.” Her three Sharlayan companions, and Emet, would be there. They were as eager and driven by worry to understand all this as she, and were gifted enough each in turn to make the full journey with her to the Antitower. They would all speak to Hydaelyn together.

She sighed, exhausted.

“I know… its just… tonight’s been a lot all at once. You know?”

“ _I know_.”

“I’d almost felt… free for once. No more burdens. Just… that moment with us, in the city, and all our friends and loved ones. Just happy. All of us just happy and alive, like we once were…”

“ _And She chooses that moment to break Her silence. Seems awfully timed, if you ask me_.”

“I don’t know what it means.”

“ _The only thing I can say now is… be careful, when you choose your words with her. She exerts clear power and influence over you still. It may prove prudent to be gentle with your questions at first_.”

“I imagine in the moment that will be difficult, given all of this and… how She’s treated me with silence and seeming indifference until now of all times.”

“ _I understand. I just don’t want you to have to go through any of the unpleasant things I did with Zodiark_.”

“What… do you mean, Hades?”

Silence for a moment.

“ _We will speak of it more tomorrow, if you wish. But it is late, and you are tired. I will not worry you overmuch with this. Please, try to get some rest for once, hero_.”

She closed her eyes.

“Okay… just…” She wanted his arms around her again. She was genuinely afraid, even without specifics.

His form appeared, already holding her close, attired in light garments as she was for sleeping. He knew already.

“ _Shhh… try to rest now_.”

His eyes were so beautiful. She got lost in them again, as she drifted to sleep.

He stayed up a while longer, holding her close as she slept. A hand gently petting her, caressing her hair. Lost in thought. Worried, but still holding the hope of earlier moments in his heart.

He began to think of what to do.

**Author's Note:**

> A brief note; I headcanon Venat's group's entreaties to Azem, briefly mentioned in the Anamnesis recordings, as going unheeded because of Azem's absence from the city following the Final Days and Zodiark's summoning. Not just because they disagreed with the plan, or perhaps would have given the chance. Given their desire to avoid the primal solution to the Sound, in any form it took before or after the Final Days, because of its consequences.
> 
> Whether they (or in my case, she) were/was dead or alive, following those events, and the circumstances of their existence up to the point described above and their much later reincarnation, remains unclear at the moment. I plan to revisit this point later in some fashion.


End file.
